Kicking Down Closet Doors
by Jenny7
Summary: Tallahassee coaxes Columbus out of the closet and teaches him about life outside. Tallahassee/Columbus pre-slash. Rated M for language.


Disclaimer: I don't own Zombieland or any of its survivors.

Author Note: This is my first attempt at a Zombieland fanfiction. I don't even know if the readership still exists, but I couldn't help myself! I just love this pairing so much and I've enjoyed reading all of the stories. So this takes place during the first film in an alternate universe where Tallahassee and Columbus never met Wichita or Little Rock. Enjoy!

Kicking Down Closet Doors

"Chicks sharing jeans."

Crash.

"Virgins with pies."

Clatter.

"Stupid goblins and their jewelry."

The last rectangular box sailed across the vast living space, passing a Jaws poster and a shelf filled with dusty Academy Awards, before landing in Columbus' waiting hands. He lowered himself back down to the dusty white couch and held the DVD carefully with his fingertips as if it were a rare gem.

"Not goblins, _hobbits_. Frodo is a hobbit and the bearer of the One True Ring. How do you not know this?"

Tallahassee glanced over his shoulder from his crouched position on the carpeted floor. A pile of DVDs lay to rest between the two men, all of which had been rejected for their dinner entertainment.

"I outta punch you just for asking me that question."

"Fair enough." He carefully set his new treasure down on the glass coffee table and approached the six-foot-tall DVD shelf. "There are like hundreds of movies and TV shows here. There must be something we can agree upon."

"Nothing! Not one contender." He rose to his feet and halfheartedly swiped a few more DVDs to the ground. "The man directed the greatest dinosaur movie ever made and he doesn't own a single action movie? Hell, I'd even settle for Rocky V."

Columbus searched through the titles, most of them agreeably unwatchable, before plucking a bulky DVD set from the shelf. He grinned at the cover photo of seven people on an island, including his childhood crush. "How about this one? It's a classic."

Florida carefully approached Ohio from behind, slowly removing the suggested title from his hands. He squinted at the cover and peeked at the DVD's inside.

"Huh." He cocked his head. "It's not action, but it'll do." He clapped the younger man on the shoulder. "You got good taste, Spitfuck."

Columbus' insides warmed at the compliment. The crude nickname had actually grown on him, along with the guy who came up with it. They'd been riding together for four months, far longer than they'd initially agreed upon. Texarkana had come with a freezer full of whiskey, a jukebox, and a long night of conversation with the older Florida man. They'd laughed, reminisced, and even danced if you count Florida's weird Elvis jig thing. Liquor gave Columbus a loose tongue and he and Tallahassee talked about everything and nothing that night.

All except one thing, which he fully intended to keep to himself.

He'd fully expected for Florida to be long gone when he woke up on the pool table the next morning. Instead, the man was shrugging his snakeskin jacket over his shoulders and poking him in the side with a pool cue. A bag of peanuts hit him in the forehead.

"Eat your breakfast, Kid. We got a long day of driving ahead of us."

Tallahassee's palm disappeared, bringing Columbus back to a mansion that suddenly felt more like a closet.

Florida marched towards the DVD player to push some buttons. As the tray popped out, he unfolded the case and searched through the available episode options in comfortable silence. Something about the way the older man stood, his hips jutted to the side and his left knee cocked, made it hard for Columbus to look away. Since that night at the bar, he'd found himself distracted more than once by the older man and his, uh, attributes.

So much for pushing a girl's hair behind her ear.

He couldn't even convince himself that he was straight anymore.

"Ginger or Mary Ann?"

The gravelly voice intruded on Columbus' thoughts and he immediately averted his eyes. Squashing the imposing feelings, he swallowed the lump forming in his throat and shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"Uh, what?"

Tallahassee slapped a DVD into the tray and pushed it closed. He slowly folded the ribbon of plastic back into the case and studied the younger man with a lopsided grin.

"Come on, kid. Everyone has a preference. Me, I prefer brunettes." The screen lit up with a jungle background and a portrait of seven castaways looking entirely too happy to be stranded in uncharted shark-infested waters. "Who did you jizz your bedsheets over when you were a growing boy?"

"Oh." He'd gotten used to the older man's bluntness, even grown to like it, but this particular question made his stomach flutter in a non-IBS sort of way. "Of course, you mean pleasuring myself. Well, I…"

Right on time, the oven timer dinged. Columbus exhaled.

Saved by the Bell- the Zombieland years.

"I…am going to retrieve the food so we can watch the show."

He knew before he even got to the ballroom-sized kitchen that it wouldn't be that easy. Tallahassee stayed on his tail like a puppy dog waiting for a treat. Figured, one of the few times the guy felt talkative and it had to be about sex. Columbus popped the oven door open and removed the plastic Hungry Man trays with bare fingers, wincing at the sudden searing pain.

"Shit, fuck, shit…"

"Take it easy, Julia Child." Tallahassee immediately rescued the trays and placed them on the marbled countertop. "No need to burn yourself at the stake over a simple question."

Columbus moved to the sink and ran cold water over his reddening fingertips. It muted the pain, but not the intensity coming from Florida's blue eyes. They burned holes in his back and made his pulse quicken. The man was a fucking human lie detector and he always knew exactly what doors to kick open to get his answers.

"I'm not…it's not that simple."

"Sure it is. Who gets your pecker pecking?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"Just say it, Spitfuck. It ain't gonna end the world, zombies already done that."

"The professor, okay! Are you happy? Fuck."

A long moment of silence stretched in the space between the two men. Columbus removed his hand from the water at once and braced his back against the sink, facing the older man. Tallahassee leaned back against the opposite counter, grinning like Yosemite Sam after a fresh bunny kill. The dim lighting made the shadows around his stretched lips even more pronounced.

Slowly, Florida's smile deflated, and his eyes darkened. He took a step forward, fists clenched at this side. Ohio's heart began to race, fear streaking down from his head like a whole-body brain freeze. He squirmed but didn't even try to escape.

"Fuck, please anywhere but my nose. I bleed a lot and I just found a clean shirt."

Tallahassee's face hardened into an angry sneer as he marched quicker across the kitchen and swung his right arm out. Columbus ducked, only for the hand to miss his face and land like a gentle vice against his upper arm.

"Whoa hey, relax. Anyone ever hits you because of who charms your snake, you shoot them in the face. You got it?"

Columbus exhaled. The older man gave a decisive nod, forcing their eyes to meet briefly. His held no humor, just a surprising sincerity. The hand tightened momentarily before it left his body all together and Florida about-faced. Three lumbering steps in the other direction and he surprised Columbia yet again.

"Personally, I can't see the appeal of a guy who thinks he's smarter than everyone else on the island. I'm more of a Gilligan man. Needs some hand-holding, sure, but he's a lovable little spit fuck and loyal as all hell."

Columbus leaned back against the counter and slowly untightened his clenched fists. His face felt flushed and cold at the same time. He went to speak, but found a lump blocking his words. A quick clear of his throat gave him a moment to process this new development.

"I…I thought you said you had a thing for Mary Ann."

Tallahassee let out a deep guttural laugh before turning. He held utensils in his hands now and carried them like a hungry five-year-old approaching a bowl of sugar cereal.

"Hell yea I did. Something about those little shorts."

The forks entered the cooling frozen dinners with a goopy pop and then Tallahassee was carrying their food back into the living room without a second glance. His voice carried across the luxurious high ceilings and, slowly, Columbus followed. He found the older man placing the dinners upon the glass coffee table. The southern drawl resumed.

"You think a man can't lean both ways? Let me tell you somethan." He took a seat on the two-person couch and caught Columbus' eyes with a glint of earnestness. "It ain't about what's between the legs for me. I'm attracted to the person, Gilligan or Mary Ann. Don't matter."

Columbus squirmed under his intense gaze, debating if he should sit down. Florida seemed to sense his reluctance and gently tapped the cushion beside him as if inviting a puppy for a cuddle. He considered his options.

"For Christ's sake kid, I ain't gonna jump your bones without permission. Just sit down."

Columbus swallowed, rubbed his hands over his thighs, and padded over to the couch. He lowered himself onto the cushion's edge, pushing back all thoughts of bone jumping and how he might not mind that so much. Florida leaned forward and plucked his dinner, stirring the small piece of meatloaf absentmindedly.

"I'm sensing you lean all the way on the Gilligan side?"

He met the older man's eyes, still filled with warmth and kindness, and found the confidence to speak again.

"I think so. I mean I've been with girls, but it doesn't feel right. The love-making part, I mean. It's like I'm playing the role of a normal guy, but it doesn't fit."

"There's nothing abnormal about liking other men." He shoveled the gruel into his mouth and spoke between bites. "Been happenin' since we discovered our dicks."

Silence ensued while he finished chewing. Columbus retrieved his own tray, now much cooler, from the table and held it gingerly in his lap. He stirred the contents, debating whether to ask his next question.

"So, am I that obvious?" Tallahassee looked up from his powdered potatoes, eyebrows raised. "I mean, it just seems like you already knew about me."

"Nah, I've just met enough of our kind to know it when I see it." Florida slurped the remainder of his forkful. "So, you got any questions go right on ahead. Tallahassee is an open book."

Columbus rolled his eyes and leaned back, finding that room suddenly felt larger. "Sticking with the third person thing, huh? That…that's very bold of you."

The man swallowed and gave the teasing glare that Columbus loved so fucking much. The one he'd learned was reserved for him.

"Might wanna put some food in that smart mouth before I put something else in it, you get me?"

The playful spark in Florida's eyes said it all.

Something akin to relief cycled through Columbus. He'd been holed up in the metaphorical closet for years, having to constantly hide his true self. Now, thanks to the man currently eyeing him with barely concealed mischief, he could finally breath.

Columbus smirked and shoved a forkful of lasagna between his lips. He made a show of chewing, catching the older man's challenging gaze, before swallowing and answering with confidence.

"Maybe later? I'm kind of looking forward to watching the professor make a mankini out of coconut shells."

Tallahassee cackled and ruffled Columbus' hair with spirited affection.

"Well alright, Little Buddy. Later."

He grabbed the remote control and slung an arm around Columbus' shoulders, pulling the younger man just a little closer.


End file.
